


My Papa, My Stardust

by Kobo



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Jyn and Galen reunited, Pre-Rogue One, Rebel Rising AU, References to Torture, Rogue One Rewrite, eventual rebelcaptain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:55:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12405309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kobo/pseuds/Kobo
Summary: “And that one,” Reece said, pointing to Jyn. “You may be interested in her as well – and I’ll obviously be expecting higher payment if you are. Saw’s tried to keep her identity undercover, but I suspect she may be...” -Rebel RisingJyn Erso's real identity is revealed to the Empire and is reunited with her father at the Imperial facility on Eadu. Despite initial misgivings to reconcile with her father and anger at the Saw's abandonment, Jyn accepts the most important mission she'll ever undertake for the Rebellion: delivering the news of the Death Star's fatal flaw and bringing her father to safety.A "Jyn is reunited with Galen" AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Any of you that follow me on Tumblr know that I recently finished _[Rebel Rising](https://rxbxlcaptain.tumblr.com/tagged/rebel-rising)_ and I had [a whole lot of thoughts on it](https://rxbxlcaptain.tumblr.com/post/166469802279/rxbxlcaptains-official-rebel-rising-review-since).
> 
> My idea for this AU spun off from a moment in _Rebel Rising_ when a traitor among Saw's ranks attempted to sell Saw and Jyn to the Empire. Saw stops him before he can reveal who Jyn is, but it got me wondering -- what if he tell the Empire that Galen Erso's daughter was hidden among Saw Gerrera's ranks? 
> 
> And, a whole lot of planning later (many, many thanks to [NewLeeland](https://thenewleeland.tumblr.com/) for helping me organize those thoughts!) this AU was born!

> _Eadu Flight Station, 5 BBY_

Orson Krennic enjoyed stopping by Eadu Flight Station without much announcement. What Galen had originally considered a lack of prior planning or perhaps the need to keep Galen’s crew on their toes, he later decided these trips were designed to boost the ego of the director. Based on the frequency of the name “Wilhuff Tarkin” appearing in Krennic’s notes during his visits, meetings with the Moff never went according to plan, and Krennic needed to step on smaller men to recover.

When Galen received a notification from air traffic control that the director would be visiting the facility in a few hours, he assumed it would be nothing more than the usual. Krennic would pound into the station, his white cape flowing behind him, demand to see the progress the plans had made, yelling until the junior engineers cowered beneath his voice, and leave in the same flourish with which he’d arrived.

Galen didn’t bother to move from his work space as an announcement of the arrival of Krennic’s shuttle sounded throughout the base. Krennic would seek him out soon enough.

Within a few minutes, the echoing sounds of Deathtrooper boots sounded down the hallway. (This was Galen’s least favorite part of Krennic’s visits; the sound still made Galen flinch all these years later.) Galen barely raised his head in greeting when Krennic entered his lab, keeping his focus on his calculations on the datapad in front of him. The ‘troopers took their spot outside the door, their dark helmets a harsh contrast to the brilliant white of the facility.

Krennic wandered through the room, poking at the different machines he didn’t know how to use and examining the crystals he knew nothing about, only that they were the key to his massive success. His silence began to grate on Galen; Krennic voiced most his thoughts, tisking at apparent delays or praising the genius – his own genius – that led to the creation of this project. With a sigh, Galen turned back to his work. Krennic would speak soon enough.

“How old would your child be now, Galen?” Krennic asked, appose to nothing.

Galen froze at the question; no mention of Jyn would ever be innocuous – not when it came to Krennic. Not when his visit seemed strange thus far.

With effort, Galen continued tinkering with work, keeping his voice casual. “I haven’t been keeping track, Orson.”

_Sixteen_ , his brain, the real traitor here, answered for him. _Jyn would be sixteen, almost full grown, and probably a beauty like her mother._

_If she’s still alive._

“Surely you must know,” Krennic prodded him further. “You never forgot your wife and daughter on Coruscant, Galen, and I know you haven’t forgotten them now. How old would Jyn be?”

Galen’s fingers tightened over his stylus; Krennic never referred to Jyn by her name, simply “your child.” In fact, Galen hadn’t heard anyone say Jyn’s name aloud in years – save for himself, but even then, only in the depths of night when he was certain Eadu’s pounding rain covered his lamenting.

“Galen, how old would Jyn be?” Krennic repeated his question when Galen failed to answer.

“Sixteen,” he whispered, refusing to look up from his datapad. “She’d be sixteen now.”

Krennic hummed a response, a strange contemplative sound, one Galen knew from experience: Krennic wanted to draw a response out of him and wouldn’t be satisfied until he did.

Running a hand over his face, Galen relented. Keeping himself subservient to Krennic’s wishes was essential to him, if he wanted to remain below the Empire’s radar and allow his sabotage to succeed. “Why bring up Jyn now?”

“I had a very strange report the other day,” Krennic explained, taking the seat next to Galen and fiddling with the blueprints laid across the table, as if he was speaking nonchalantly and hadn’t planned these exact words ahead of time. (Knowing him as Galen did, there was no question that Krennic had considered each word he would deliver here – which would strike the hardest blow to Galen’s memories of the past, what would remind him that Krennic could still hold the mere idea of Jyn over his head – carefully before departing for Eadu.) “A Lieutenant Colonel Senjax contacted me the other day with some very interesting news.”

Krennic paused here, obviously waiting for a response from Galen. When Galen merely stared in response, Krennic sighed and continued. “Thanks to a rebel traitor, he caught the leader of a very important Partisan group. An Onderonian named Saw Gerrera.”

 

Eight years Galen had been practicing hiding his reactions to the bait Krennic would throw at him, burying his emotions below a passive face, lying to the director’s face until he began to believe him, but nothing could stop Galen’s pure panic broadcasting across his face.

Krennic asking about Jyn, years after losing her trail. The Empire capturing Saw Gerrera.

Galen knew well enough to put two and two together.

“Ah, yes, I thought you might recognize the name,” Krennic grinned, and both men knew he’d played the ultimate trump card in their relationship. “Anyway, he had a girl with him, going by the name of Kestrel Dawn, but the rebel informant seemed quite insistent that she was the daughter of Galen Erso.

“You know how these rebels are, of course – can’t consider their intelligence too high if they’re choosing to join such organizations – so I almost didn’t feel the need to investigate the claim, almost just sent her off to be executed with Gerrera, but she wore a necklace I found most peculiar.”

Reaching into his pocket, Krennic pulled out a pendant, a kyber crystal dangling from its end. Galen’s heart lurched; the last place he’d seen that pendant was around his wife’s neck. Absent from her neck after she’d died, Galen assumed the pendant had gotten lost in the shuffle of packing and running. Had Lyra, instead, given the pendant to Jyn when she’d decided to follow him rather than follow their survival plan, one physical memory of her mother?

Without conscious thought, Galen reached for the necklace, running his thumb along the Aurebesh inscription. _Trust in the Force_ , something Lyra had always done so much better than he.

“Since so few people possess such a remarkable object,” Krennic continued, oblivious to the overwhelming rush of noise in Galen’s ears, “I knew this lead might deserve more investigation. Which is, of course, why I needed to know how old your dear Jyn would be, Galen.”

_Jyn is alive. Jyn is with Saw Gerrera. Jyn has been captured by the Empire. Jyn Erso, my daughter… Jyn is alive._

“Sixteen seems an accurate description, though she’s hardly the lady you and Lyra would have raised her to be.” Krennic tisked. “Quite a set of teeth on that girl, Galen. You might have some work reeling her in.”

“I might have some work?” Galen looked up suddenly. “You’re bringing her here, to Eadu?”

“Of course. I promised you your family would all live in comfort.”

_As hostages_ , Lyra added in his mind.

_As heroes of the Empire_ , Krennic corrected.

Galen only hoped this wouldn’t end in blaster fire, like the last time.

“We’ll need to keep a close eye on her at first, you understand – who knows what kind of brainwashing that terrorist has put her through – but she’ll be allowed to stay with you. You know I want the best for you, Galen. Whatever you need to keep the project running smoothly.”

Galen nodded. “And what of Gerrera?”

“Gerrera remains scheduled for execution.” Krennic replaced his gloves. Good, he meant to leave then. Galen needed time to process what he’d learned. “You and Jyn should be present, of course. Would give the best impression to your superiors. It would be a nasty blow to your reputation if it got out that you handed your child over to a terrorist, Galen. And it would be such a shame if Jyn needed to be subdued for the process.”

Galen clinched the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white with the effort. The thinly veiled threat was not lost on Galen, the reminder clear: if Jyn behaved as Krennic wanted, her presence would be a great reward to Galen; if Jyn rebelled, showed any signs of disloyalty to the rebellion, her presence among Imperials would be nothing short of torture for Galen.

Force help Galen if Jyn had inherited Lyra’s sense of justice and rebellion.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saw Gerrera is captured and Jyn faces a choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the first day of December, NaNoWriMo is officially finished and I'm happy to present the next chapter! I've got 50k words of this story written (which I had to sadly admit to myself is not enough to tell this story so I still have much more to write) and I'm excited to share them with you :)
> 
> As a warning for this (and future) chapter, there are mentions of torture. Nothing explicit, but know that it is referenced (and I apologize in advance for doing that to the characters)

> _Tamsye Prime, 5 BBY_

Too simple; Jyn recognized that from the start. The smiling Imperial officer, the obvious connections to her father’s work, the way the Stormtroopers only glanced over the credentials she’d made…

The operation had been too simple.

Watching the butt of a ‘trooper’s rifle bash into Saw’s temple and seeing him cuffed shouldn’t have been a surprise. But watching Reece Tallent, a man she’d known as long as she’d been with Saw’s cadre, smirk at the sight was a surprise.

She screamed anyway, a noise far too high-pitched and vulnerable for her liking, as a second trooper grabbed her shoulder, not bothering to tie her wrists together. She was too small, too slight to merit much worry.

(“Use their assumptions against them, Jyn,” Saw had taught her many years ago. “If they think you’re small, act small. It’ll make your punches seem all the larger.”)

She stopped her struggling, going limp in the ‘trooper’s hands and whimpering slightly.

(What was her pride compared to her and Saw’s escape? Whatever it took to make them underestimate her. Whatever it took to free Saw and get away.)

“What is this?” Saw growled, but Lieutenant Colonel Senjax took no notice. (His earlier smile played over in Jyn’s mind. Had he known who she was then? Did he think her a fool for falling for his welcoming facade?)

“There are the anarchists you alerted my department of?” The officer asked Reece.

“Saw Gerrera,” Reece -- the _traitor_ ; Jyn longed for the minute when she was free to punch him, again and again for this! -- nodded.

“Excellent.” Senjax smiled, his eyes shining so brightly Jyn imagined his future medals for heroism reflected in them. “He’s been on our lists for quite some time.”

Saw spit a mouthful of blood towards the colonel’s feet. When he spoke, he sounded more disappointed in himself than in the man who’d betrayed him. “This was a set up? Id—was she in on it?”

Reece laughed in response. “Idyrssa was a fool who took my suggestion easily. But she was just a fool.” He turned to the Imperial officer, suggesting they follow Saw’s signals back, explaining they’d lead to a larger cell of rebels.

Jyn should be concerned for the other cell, the one that led back to the Alliance Idyrssa had joined. They were fighting the Empire, same as her, and should be kept safe. But—with Saw bleeding and a traitor (whom she’d _trusted_ ) among their midst, Jyn couldn’t find it in herself to care about anything outside her present situation.

Saw bickered with Reece, laughing at his motives – “You took my men. So I’m taking yours!” as if that explained anything, excused what he was doing! – but Reece clearly had enough. He eyed Jyn, a smirk dancing over his features, and Jyn realized his last trump card right before he spoke.

“And that one,” Reece said, pointing to Jyn. “You may be interested in her as well – and I’ll obviously be expecting higher payment if you are. Saw’s tried to keep her identity undercover, but I suspect she may be…”

Saw strained against the cuffs holding him backward, reaching toward the traitor. Jyn’s heart raced – both in panic over whether she would hear her name (her _real_ name) uttered out loud for the first time in years, and at the sound of the Stormtrooper’s rifles butting into Saw’s head. The fire behind Saw’s eyes extinguished and there was nothing Jyn could do, not with the ‘trooper’s tight grip on her shoulder.

“Continue,” the lieutenant colonel continued in a bored voice, merely eyeing Saw with an air of distaste and inconvenience rather than any true concern.

“I suspect,” Reece started again, “the she may be the daughter of Galen Erso. One of your weapon’s specialists.”

Senjax hid his surprise well – better than Jyn controlled her shock and fear. “And just how,” the Imperial asked, drawing the question out, “do you know that name?”

“How do you think?” Reece snorted. “Gerrera’s been following his work for years, a little too closely for it not to be personal, if you know what I mean.” He nodded to Jyn, power and dominance lighting his eyes and lifting his shoulders. “And she appeared, a kyber crystal on her neck, around the same time Gerrera began looking into his work. Didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“Well, well, well,” Senjax said as Jyn struggled to keep her face neutral. (Was it fear fighting for control of her? Anger? Betrayal?) He reached forward, ignoring how Jyn leaned away until her back his the ‘trooper’s cold armor behind her, to finger the leather cord hanging around her neck. With a tug, the crystal Jyn kept hidden for years popped out of her shirt. “Galen Erso has a daughter, and she’s fighting the Empire’s advancement?”

A malicious twice took control of his smile, his face only inches away from Jyn’s. She struggled against the ‘trooper’s hold on her, wishing for a blaster, her truncheons, her bare fists – _anything_ – to fight away his encroaching presence.

“Really, girl, it’s a disrespect to your father. Attempting to sabotage the supplies benefitting his hard work?”

Her father’s hard work? Jyn’s eyes darted around the factory again, searching for its link to her father. She only found one, the same one she’d noticed earlier: the crystalline spectrometer she’d pointed out to Saw, so much like the smaller version Papa used in his research on kyber crystals, back on Lah’mu, back on Coruscant.

“Contact Director Krennic,” Senjax ordered a sergeant standing behind him. “And get these two on board. Quietly. I don’t care what you have to do with them.”

The ‘trooper holding Saw’s binders didn’t hesitate to smash his rifle into Saw’s skull again, collapsing the strongest man Jyn knew in an instant. A small cry of disbelief and pain echoed across the factory; only as she was roughly pulled backward did Jyn realize she had surged toward Saw in her moment of panic. Her panting breaths and echoing heartbeats filled her ears, but one voice made her tighten her fists and clench her teeth:

“She’s an obedient soldier,” Reece ( _traitor!_ Her mind screamed. _He’s a traitor!_ ) was saying. “She’ll come quietly after Saw.”

“ _The hell I will_ ,” Jyn growled before lunging forward again, this time with intent and destination: the center of Reece’s throat or maybe his groin; Jyn wasn’t particular.

“Halt!” The hand of ‘troopers still surrounding the small group raised their blasters simultaneously. Eyes intent on the man who’d betrayed her and Saw, their shouts were little more than a buzzing annoyance in her ears. She barely felt the sting of a blaster bolt— _set to stun_ , her mind analyzed for her, _it’s stinging, not hurting_ —against her back as she fell to her knees. The world darkened around its edges, slowly closing in, but Jyn kept her eyes locked on Reece’s until the very last.

If he remembered nothing else, let him remember that Jyn may have inherited Galen Erso’s name, but she also inherited Saw Gerrera’s teeth.

 

* * *

 

 

> _Coruscant, 5 BBY_

Galen refused to open his eyes as the ship docked. Knowing the size of Coruscant and how much of the planet the Empire owned, he likely hadn’t been to here before. None of that mattered. He didn’t want to see it, especially under these circumstances.

“We’ve arrived, Galen,” Krennic called his tone one full of business, of formality, though Galen detected the smugness underneath his tone. Or perhaps he recognized it because _smugness_ was the only tone Krennic had used for days now, ever since he’d arrived on Eadu with the news that Saw Gerrera had been captured with a teenage girl matching the description of Galen Erso’s missing daughter alongside him. “We don’t want to leave Jyn waiting any longer than needed, do we?”

Galen forced a deep breath in through his nose before opening his eyes. _I’ve kept her waiting eight years,_ he thought with a snarl, _what’s two more minutes?_

Still, he followed Krennic obediently out of the shuttle, across the landing platform and into a plan building of colorless transparisteel and beige walls, nondescript compared to the surrounding Coruscant skyline and the Empire’s traditional flare for decorations in its official buildings. Overall, the building reminded him of the facility on Eadu: functional but quiet, something no one would think to question the presence of. A building the Empire longed to go unnoticed.

Krennic’s squad of Death Troopers moved into formation around them. Perhaps their job was still to prevent the outside world from attacking him, but Galen felt their roles had switched: now they prevented him from escaping.

“Is Gerrera here as well?” He asked Krennic, who shrugged in response, calling a turbolift. Galen tried again, appealing as a concerned father – and citizen of the Empire. “If the Rebellion were to try and rescue him, it wouldn’t be safe to have Jyn nearby. I don’t want them kept at the same facility.”

“Come now, Galen,” Krennic cajoled. “My security team knows which of our prisoners is more dangerous.” He paused, seemed to reconsider. “Though, based on reports from my security team, Jyn’s been giving the terrorist a run for his money.”

Galen was led through a series of hallways, each as nondescript as the next. He recognized their destination by a pair of Death Troopers, identical to the ones flanking him now, standing at attention outside one door, their black uniforms a harsh stain on the white walls leading in every direction.

Krennic opened the door and, to Galen’s relief and disappointment, Jyn wasn’t inside. The room was only lit by the blue glow of a hologram, hardly enough light to make out the size of the room or any detail outside a singular table on which the hologram rested. Playing through a scratchy connection was the image of a girl huddled onto a bed. She faced away from the camera, but Galen’s breath caught in his throat – He knew who it was.

“Rouse her,” Krennic barked. A guard kicked out at a door in the opposite corner Galen had failed to notice upon entering. A sharp bang echoed throughout both rooms and the girl – _Jyn_ , Galen could see her face now, and it was _Jyn_ —startled upright, her lips in a snarl and her hands curled into fists. Galen stepped closer, desperate for every detail of his daughter who’d grown into a young woman in the eight years since he’d seen her. What he noticed made his own lips twitch like Jyn’s.

“Why is she in binders?”

“Galen,” Krennic tsked, his voice condescending. “If I told you what havoc she was releasing on our guards… It’s for her own safety.”

“Being imprisoned,” Galen said, flat. “Being in prison is for her own safety.”

“Would you rather she was thrown back into the life of a rebel? Risking blowing herself up daily in a twisted sense of patriotism?” Krennic laughed, and the hairs on Galen’s arms rose. Krennic only laughed like that around politicians and other people he was playing. Galen hadn’t heard that noise directed at him since –

Since the last time he’d seen Jyn. Since Krennic ordered Lyra killed.

“What I’m struggling to understand, Galen, is _if_ you would prefer your daughter was living that life.” Krennic paced closer, moving between Galen and the feed showing Jyn. “You gave your child to a terrorist, Galen.”

_Because I still trust him more than I trust you._

“I understand, of course, Lyra was still your main advisor at that point,” Krennic continued. Galen bit his cheek to keep his face neutral at the mention of his late wife. “And she filled your head with these horrible realities, rather than the kindness I’ve shown you.”

“Kindness,” Galen repeated. “You murdered my wife.”

Krennic stared him down. “I removed a threat to the Empire. Now, tell me, Galen,” he glanced towards Jyn’s hologram, where she still stared at the door, the muscles in her arms tense. “Is your daughter going to be the same problem?”

Other than his family’s relocation from Coruscant to Lah’mu, Galen Erso had little interaction with Saw Gerrera. He’d heard tales of the man’s bravery and ruthlessness during the Clone Wars, had always kept his ears open to any possible rumor of the man the Empire called a terrorist, but, if Galen was honest with himself – a rare occurrence these days – he had no idea what an upbringing from such a man would have done to Jyn. She’s inherited her mother’s stubbornness and fixation on problems when she was still a child. Raised in an environment of war, likely with a blaster shoved into her hand and blood coating her conscious, what would Jyn be like? Would Galen even recognize his daughter?

“I have no way of knowing, Krennic. I should meet her first.”

The Imperial smiled, sweeping his great cape aside to motion to the door. “By all means, Galen. That is all we’re here.”

Galen didn’t move. “Alone. I want to visit my daughter alone.”

Krennic shook his head. “I don’t believe that’s wise. She’s dangerous, like the man we found her with.”

“What is to become to Saw Gerrera?” Jyn would want to know. If she grew into anyone like her mother, anything like the woman Galen hoped she was, she would be worried about the man who raised her.

( _The man who isn’t me_.)

“The same thing that happens to all who disrupt the peace and safety of the Empire, Galen.” Krennic sighed, as if Galen were being intentionally dense. “I’m not releasing a known menace back into the galaxy so he can blow up supply depots and sabotage trade routes. I have a duty to the Empire.”

 _You have a desire to be praised,_ Galen corrected. _You’ve longed a moment such as this for years._

“A public execution, then?”

“Yes.” Krennic smiled again, slow and even. “Such an occasion might be the perfect opportunity to show Jyn her place in society. Remind her she’s the daughter of an Imperial science officer, not a ruffian scuttling around the outskirts of society.”

“And if she won’t go?” Stubbornness ran deep in her genetics; Galen needed the consequences of her refusal, needed to be able to correct them.

“She’ll go, Galen. She can go by choice.” Krennic held up one finger. “Or our medical team can concoct a tranquilizer to keep her quiet during the event.” He held up a second finger at that option. Glancing at the holographic image of Jyn, he snorted. “And I’m not sure how many more of those her body can take at this point.”

Neither man moved for a moment, the threat settling heavy between them.

Galen dropped his shoulders in an exhale, bowing his head. If Krennic required obedience, that’s what Galen would give him and what he would impress upon Jyn. If Galen did nothing else in this life – if his plans for the destruction of the Empire’s superweapon fell through, if he perished for an attempt at treason – let him at least keep his daughter safe.

_Whatever I do, I do to protect you._

“Very well, Galen,” Krennic said, accepting Galen’s surrender. “I’ll allow you ten minutes alone with the girl. Explain what I’ve told you. Remind her of the consequences of any wrong moves.”

Galen nodded his assent. Krennic waved his hand again and marched out, his squad of Death troopers falling in line behind him. As the door shit behind them, a sob tore through Galen’s chest. He gripped the wall for support as the world spun. Only the image of Jyn, her rigid figure casting a blue shadow over the room, stayed steady in his vision.

“Jyn,” he choked out. “My Stardust.”

What would she see in him when he opened the door? The grey hairs sprouting over his ears and around his temple? The lines crossing his forehead? The heaviness in his eyes? Or would she be nothing more than the grey Imperial uniform he wore? Would he only be the man who abandoned her? Perhaps she wouldn’t speak to him; perhaps she wouldn’t even look at him.

But time was ticking by; nothing would come of running through these thoughts. (Galen should know, after all; only they had occupied his mind since he’d learn of Jyn’s discovery.) He needed to gather himself, steady himself.

With a deep sigh, Galen stood, walking to the door separating him and Jyn. He needed her to understand what he was doing, that he hadn’t forgotten her or her mother. He needed Lyra’s faith to guide him through Jyn’s course exterior and allow him inside.

Galen rested his head against the cool metal of the door and whispered, “Lyra, help me.” He kept his eyes closed and waited. She always came – his memory of her or her impression upon the Force or some explanation Galen’s limited mind had no explanation for, wanted no explanation for. The phantom feel of her hand on his shoulder was cool, but just as relaxing as her touch had been through all their years of marriage. Galen resisted the urge to reach back, to lay his hand over hers, knowing touching nothing but air would ruin the illusion.

“I’m going to keep her safe, Lyra,” he promised around a sob. “I’ll keep her safe.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jyn knew where the holocam sat in the corner, and Jyn knew what the kicks meant’ no matter what illusion of privacy the sealed door gave her, Jyn was not alone. She could no longer act on her own free will.

Jyn also knew what she still had. She had the grit she’d inherited from her mother, the training she’d received from Saw. And, if she was lucky, she’d gained Imperial favor – just like her father.

With so much of her time since her capture spent unconscious, Jyn wasn’t sure how many days she had spent in the cell. Her room showed no natural light and no portals to the outside world; Jyn could be sitting deep in the Core or on the outskirts of the known galaxy. She was certain of one fact, however; if Lieutenant Colonel Senjax called Director Krennic (she growled in frustration at even the thought of the name) then it would not be long before her father would make an appearance.

“You, your child, you’ll all live in comfort,” Krennic – the kriffing man in white who’d taken her mother, her home, her life – had promised on Lah’mu. (“As hostages,” Mama had said – and how right she was.) Krennic would reunite her with her father.

Her father – the man who’d abandoned her to her hidey hole all those years ago, the man who’d never come looking for her, the man who choose the Empire over her, the man who –

The man who opened the door to her room now.

For the first time in eight years, her father was looking at her. She was looking at her father.

Jyn jumped to her feet – too attack him? To yell? She didn’t know – but froze in the next moment.

Once, she’d longed for the opportunity to face her father once more. At the time, she didn’t know what she would do upon meeting him, and no miracle solution came to her now.

Neither father nor daughter moved, both staring – in shock, in disbelief, in _something_ – at each other.

“Stardust,” her father began and cleared his throat. Jyn’s eyes tightened.

“Don’t,” she warned. “Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not your Stardust.”

He swallowed, his eyes growing heavy. “Yes, you are, Jyn. You’ll always be my Stardust.”

Jyn bared her teeth at him. “Your Stardust died on Lah’mu.” Her voice was quiet and rough – not with emotion, but with determination. _Stardust_ was the girl who rode on her father’s shoulders along the Lah’mu shoreline and staged battles with Stormy on the rocky cliffs; Jyn had seen too much blood, fired too many blasters to think the name still belonged to her.

“Jyn…”

“Where’s Saw?” she demanded. _Where’s my father_ , she wanted to ask, just to see if the blow would hurt him anywhere near as badly as his abandonment had hurt her. She had the urge to strike him but physical blows wouldn’t be satisfying. With the way his shoulders sank and the skin around his face had grown taunt, he wouldn’t hold up to her blows nears as well as the dummies on Saw’s island, and seeing her opponent crumble to the ground on the first blow wasn’t satisfying enough for what she wanted.

(She wanted blood, wanted to tear the Imperial insignia from her father’s uniform. She wanted to forget the last eight years, wanted to wake up in her bed on Lah’mu to the smell of Mama making caf and the sound of Papa’s humming. She wanted—)

“Saw is…” Her father (not her Papa, not this man with grey hair and an Imperial uniform) cleared his throat again, shuffled his feet. “Saw is scheduled for public execution.” He glanced up at her from underneath the fringes of his hair. “We are both expected to be in attendance.”

Jyn snorted.

“Jyn, listen to me.” Her father’s voice gained a sense of urgency now. He reached forward to grab her shoulder, but Jyn yanked her arm back, a growl of _Don’t touch me_ on her lips. His hand retreated, held high in a show of obedience. “Listen to me, Krennic will have you at the execution, whether you go willingly or not.”

Syringes of colored liquids – blues and oranges and reds – filled Jyn’s visions, memories of the last few days. She’d seen the inventive measures the Imperials had to subdue someone, more than enough to last a whole lifetime. Each time she’d lashed out at a guard, each time she’d refused to eat the food sent through the door, they’d sent in a droid that Jyn could neither outrun nor outmaneuver – not in this small of a room. The drugs coursing through her system dulled her vision to nothing within moments and, each time, when she awoke, she’d been placed back in the flimsy bed. The first time after her arrival, she’d awoken in the shapeless, papery gown she still wore now. When she’d ignored two meals, she’d awoken to an IV forcing nutrients into the crook of her elbow. Each time, her head felt fuzzy and the bright lights stabbed at her vision, like she’d had too much of Codo’s whiskey the night before.

Jyn had no desire to wake up in a similar state again.

“Why?” she snapped. “Why would he want me there?”

 “You’re my daughter,” Galen breathed. “You’re my daughter, and you’ve been found with a known member of the Rebel Alliance.”

 _Saw isn’t a member of the Alliance,_ Jyn corrected. _He wouldn’t stand to be a member of such an inefficient group. Shows how much the Empire knows._

Galen paced back towards the door, then pivoted and headed towards the corner with the holocam. Rubbing a harsh hand down his face, he sighed. “It’s either prove your loyalty to the Empire or suffer the same fate as Saw, Jyn.”

“I know which one I choose.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he snapped. “You don’t know what you’re saying —”

“I know which one Mama would choose,” Jyn said, and _there_ — there was the fatal punch to Galen Erso. Not a point of his pride, not the reminder of where’d she been all these years; the mention of his late wife — Jyn’s mother, who she’d seen drop dead to the wet grass of Lah’mu when she was a child — _that_ crumpled his face and made him suck in a raggedy breath. He staggered back as if Jyn had physically assaulted him after all and his eyes closed for a long moment.

(If Jyn didn’t know any better, she would say he was praying. But it wasn’t her father that felt any connection to the spiritual world around him. Mama felt that; Papa never did.)

“Jyn,” he began again, though his voice sounded more strained now. “Jyn, there are too many things you don’t understand.”

“What don’t you think I understand?” Jyn demanded, striding forward, crowding her father’s personal space. He made no move backwards, didn’t throw up his hands in defense as Jyn shoved a rough finger in his face. “You left me in that hole! You never looked for me, and choose the Empire over your own daughter! _You let her die!_ ”

“Jyn,” he said, again, and _how many times had he said her name in the last few minutes?_ “Jyn, I can’t deny it. I didn’t protect your mother. I couldn’t keep her safe! But, I swear, Jyn, on your mother’s life, there is nothing I will not do to keep you safe.” His hands rested on her shoulders as he spoke, not pulling her closer, but anchoring them together nonetheless.

(Jyn wanted to shove the hands away from her, wanted to snap the brittle bones like twigs and watch him yell in pain.)

(Jyn wanted to pull him closer, wanted to bury her face in his chest to see if he still smelled like Lah’mu’s dirt and the chemicals in his lab.)

“You don’t know where I’ve been,” Jyn growled. “You don’t know what I’ve done. Sending me away didn’t keep me safe.”

“No,” Galen agreed. “I haven’t seen what you’ve done, Jyn. But you don’t know what I’ve done, either. You don’t know where I’ve been these years.” His hand moved from her shoulder to reach for her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing her cheekbone. She wanted to slap it away. (She wanted to lean into it.) “I regret every day I didn’t see you, Jyn. I regret that I wasn’t there when you grew into the young woman you are now. But, Jyn?” Galen exhaled, shook his head. “Jyn, I don’t regret keeping you away from the Empire.”

With shock, Jyn realized tears shone in her father’s eyes, threatening to spill over the edge. Only twice before had she seen him cry, both on Lah’mu. The first was late at night, one of their first nights away from Coruscant. Jyn had glanced out her window to see Papa standing in the yard outside their little cottage, staring up into the stars. Curious and always ready to learn what her father would teach her, Jyn ambled out to him, surprised to find not his usual smile and twinkle of curiosity in his eyes, but thin tracks of tears lit by moonlight. He’d pulled her tight into his arms, whispering he loved her in her ear. She offered to join him as long as he needed and they sat side by side in their new yard, creating names for the stars littering the night sky. Mama had found them the next morning, Papa’s arms wrapped protectively around her.

The second time had been the morning Krennic came to find them.

_Whatever I do, Jyn, I do to protect you._

“Stardust, say you understand.” He glanced over his shoulder at the door. “I’m not sure we have much time.”

Jyn heard it then too, the echoing sounds of heavy, armored footfalls. _Death troopers_. Of course, Jyn realized. No Imperial science officer traveled far without his squad. With this reminder of where they were and what she was facing, Jyn straightened her shoulders, shoved the worry and fear deep into herself, and stepped out of her father’s grasp.

“No, Father,” she told him in a clear voice, all sign of tears gone. “I don’t understand. I’ll be the perfect Imperial daughter you need for the ceremony, but I do _not_ understand.”

“Jyn,” he began to plead despite the shake of her head, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of the door opening. Two Death Troopers marched in, their rifles slung across their arms and Jyn forced herself to stay still. (After days of seeing them wandering in and out of her illusion of privacy, Jyn learned to control her reactions to seeing the monsters; still, her initial reaction was to flinch away, to run, to hide away, every time they walked into her sight.) Jyn couldn’t focus on the monsters long, though, not when the only man she hated more than the dark-armored troopers strode in behind them without a care in the world.

“Well, well, well,” Director Krennic smiled, venom dripping from his lips. “Isn’t this a touching scene? Father and daughter, reunited at last. How long has it been, Jyn, since you’ve seen your father?”

Jyn bit down on the inside of her cheek and stared the man down. Out of the corner of her vision, Jyn could see her father watching intently. His eyes, overflowing with emotions mere seconds ago, had been wiped blank when the Director walked into the room. The only thing left in them seemed to be a warning, one which Jyn already knew.

_Whatever he wants, Jyn, give it to him. Be obedient, and you survive._

“Jyn?” Krennic prompted, stepping closer to her. Jyn resisted taking an equal step away from him. “How long did that terrorist hold you?”

 _Terrorist_. Jyn wanted to sneer, to spit in his face.

“Eight —” Her father began, when it seemed Jyn’s stare would be the only answer Krennic would get.

“I asked your daughter, Galen,” Krennic snapped. “I want her to tell me how many years Saw Gerrera held her against her will, when she would have much rather been at her father’s side, working for the glory of the Empire.” He stepped forward but Jyn held her ground. Krennic looked down at her, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and repeated his question. “How many years were you away from your father, Jyn?”

She broke eye contact with the director for a moment to examine the Death Troopers flanking the door to her cell. The faster she spoke, the faster they would be gone. She would give Krennic this — and only this — in exchange for the illusion of her privacy. “Eight years.”

“She does speak,” Krennic said, and his mouth turned up into a smile Jyn found more terrifying than his intimidating glare. Satisfied that Jyn had bent to his command, he turned to Galen next. “Have you explained what’s going to happen?”

“I told her of the execution.”

“Good.” Krennic rubbed his hands together, like a child excited by a new toy. The grin he sent towards Jyn was smug; the upper hand was his, and he knew it. “Aren’t you excited that chapter of your life is closing, Jyn?”

 _No,_ Jyn thought. She’d much rather go back to the rest of the Partisans, to rally them and lead them in a path of revenge to avenge the loss of their leader.

“What happens to me?” She asked instead. “After you’ve killed Gerrera, what happens to me?”

“Why, Jyn,” Krennic stepped closer this time, holding out his arms as if to hug her. “What happens next is what was always meant to happen, before that _unfortunate_ incident with your mother.”

Jyn’s jaw locked up to stay silent.

When Krennic didn’t receive any response (was he trying to egg her on?), he continued. “If you were younger, I’d send you to the finest schools the Core Worlds could have provided.” He tsked, and shook his head. Looking over his shoulder at Galen, he said, “See what opportunities Lyra wasted for her? She could have received the best training in the world. Scientist, Imperial officer, Senator — the world could have been hers.

“Never mind that now.” Krennic waved his hand, and, with it, the ideas that made Jyn scowl. “That’s all in the past. The best option for you now, my dear, is to send you with your father. I’ve seen your work splicing, Jyn. Quite impressive, even I must admit.” He grinned, once again the man who knew he’d won. “Let’s see if we can put those to better use than impersonating Imperial documents.”

Krennic snapped his fingers and another officer, dressed in the more traditional black uniform, a lieutenant if Jyn recognized the insignia, appeared, holding a bundle of clothes. They, like the officer’s uniform, were black with Imperial logos on the shoulders. A standard Imperial cap rested on top of the pile.

“Now,” Krennic said, holding the bundle in her direction. “Change into these. The transport is waiting to take us to the execution.”

“And if I refuse?” Jyn blurted out. “What then?”

Krennic shook his head. “Galen, I thought you said you’d explained. Jyn.” He stepped closer, within her personal space again, the smile gone. “You will attend the execution, and you will wear these clothes as a sign of your loyalty to the Empire. Whether you do it of your own accord is up to you.”

With that, he shoved the bundle into Jyn’s hands before stepping towards the door. “We’ll give you a few minutes.” Motioning to the guards, he pointed at the handle. “Leave the door unlocked for Miss Erso. She’ll join her father when she’s ready. Come, Galen.”

Her father hesitated. “I’ll wait for you in the next room,” he muttered, and Jyn held back a sneer.

The room emptied out, starting with Krennic and ending with the guards. The red light on the holocam continued to blink lazily and the scream that had been pressing at the base of Jyn’s throat since her capture finally escaped. She chucked the uniform across the room and growled when it flopped, unsatisfactorily, to the ground in a heap. Another scream tore out of her throat and Jyn’s hands balled into fists. She struck out at the duracrete walls, not caring about the unforgiving material and the way her knuckles crackled. She ignored the blood spouting from the splits in the joints and the frantic knocks and her father’s voice on the other side of the door.

Jyn screamed and didn’t care who heard her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aiming to publish a chapter once a week, which gives me plenty of time to polish what I wrote during NaNo and keep working forward in the hopes that this story won't stall along the way. Releases will probably be on Friday!


	3. Chapter 3

> _Tieos, 5 BBY_

Whatever happened between when he left Jyn’s cell and when Galen appeared, his daughter dressed and by his side, Orson Krennic didn’t know. (Though, really, the bruise on Galen’s jawline and Jyn’s bloody knuckles left little to his imagination.) Krennic intended to never ask and, hopefully, never learn. What mattered now was successfully ridding the Empire of the menace Saw Gerrera.

If everything went according to plan – if Galen kept his daughter under control, if no nosy Senator weaseled their way into Gerrera’s case and delayed the execution – accolades would be drowning Krennic by the end of the day. Capturing one of the galaxy’s most notorious criminals was no small accomplishment, in so far as Krennic – and many higher-ranking Imperials – was concerned.

Hopefully the capture and death of Gerrera would sate those who pressed and pressed for results from Operation Stardust. And speaking of Stardust –

Galen never explained the name of the project, simply chose it on his first day after Lyra’s funeral. Krennic, in turn, never gave it much thought. Some poetic irony, he mused when Galen suggested the name, turning planets back into the stardust from which they came. Little did he know.

Galen now sat beside his precious Stardust on their transport to the Abrion sector (the Erso girl, Krennic trusted to keep on the Imperial capital, but Saw Gerrera? Only a fool kept a dangerous prisoner on such a populous planet). Perhaps the nickname had been Lyra’s, merely copied by Galen over the years, hence the girl’s vicious response to the nickname earlier.

Krennic, safely tucked several rooms away to satisfy the privacy he had offered Galen (he gave him the room without guards, shouldn’t that be enough?), had scrutinized the first interaction between father and daughter with a sense of fascination and curiosity, but primarily with caution. Bringing Jyn to her father was a matter of courtesy to Galen, but by no means a requirement. The girl bordered on being too problematic as it was – how much fight she put up in the last few days alone! Galen’s safety, however, reminded the highest priority for Orson. Perhaps the project could continue without Galen’s direction, but inserting unnecessary risk into the ordeal wasn’t necessary.

The point remained: If Jyn Erso needed to be separated from her father, even meet the same fate Lyra had, Krennic was not afraid to pull the trigger – himself, if necessary. (Phantom pains still stung through his shoulder on occasion, and they’d doubled in frequency since she’d arrived, with her close resemblance to Lyra. But no matter; they kept him attentive and determined. No Erso would ever best him again.)

The girl sat quietly now beside her father with the Imperial cap pulled low over her forehead, hiding her eyes. Krennic had wrestled with what to do with her, but, since only her father had any success in subduing her so far, his decision to send her to the Eadu facility was confirmed.

_She’s got sharp teeth_ , he noted within his first observations of the girl. ( _“Lyra,”_ his own voice from years ago echoed in his mind. _“Troublesome as ever.”_ ) He needed to redirect her bite, away from the Empire and towards the rebels who raised her.

Thus far, no trouble loomed on the horizon. After all, he was preparing to cut off Jyn’s connections to the rebels – both literally and figuratively. And what rebel group would want her assistance after this, especially now her father had been revealed?

No one. Krennic smiled, thoroughly pleased with himself, as the plane landed and he descended, flanked by his loyal Death Troopers.

The Imperial base on Tieos was ideal for keeping and executing Gerrera: removed from regular flow of hyperlane traffic and no major installations on the base would draw rebel attention to the planet. Those in charge – an Officer Alvak, whom Krennic interacted with as little as possible while planning the execution – jumped at the opportunity to gain attention for his installation.

Krennic turned his nose up at the agricultural planet; the humid atmosphere and damp soil beneath his feet with Eros trailing after him reminded him too much of eight years previous. Both Ersos recognized this too, though with very different reactions – Galen appeared worried as his boots sank into the soil, while Jyn’s defeated eyes regained some of their earlier spark. Krennic turned away from her, marching towards the entrance of the Imperial base where the senior portmaster waited for him.

“Sir,” Alvak saluted. “A pleasure to –“

“I trust everything is prepared?” Krennic wasted no time on formalities, jumping straight into business.

“Yes, sir, the prisoner has been properly restrained and readied for the ceremony. Senator Lenz has arrived and his team has set up the holonet stream…”

The man continued to prattle on and Krennic nodded when appropriate, though he tuned out the man’s words. Gerrera would be dead within the hour, and the proper people would be watching. Those were the details Krennic cared about.

Alvak lead the party to an open courtyard on the edge of the facility. Base personnel mingled with Senator Lenz and his entourage around the edges. Temporary seats fanned out around a stage and gazed out over Tieos’s plains and grassy rolling hills. Its sun shined high in the sky and Krennic lifted his had to shade his gaze. Only two items waited on the stage: a podium for the senator to speak from and an electroguillotine for Gerrera. Holocams littered the ground between the stage and the seats, ready to broadcast the execution to the entire galaxy. Alvak led the party to the front row of seating where Lieutenant Colonel Senjax, the officer whose informer had lead the Empire to Saw Gerrera and Jyn Erso, sat waiting.

“A pleasure to see you as always, Director Krennic,” he greeted, standing and extending his hand. Krennic took it with distaste. Senjax was always so… _pleasant_ , no matter the setting. He smiled too much for Krennic’s taste.

“Anything bringing down this terrorist will be a pleasure.”

“Ah, yes,” Senjax smiled again, a perceptive tint around the edges. “I suppose there are superiors watching this? By holocam, if they’re not present.”

Krennic’s polite smile tightened. The man was shrewder than he’d expected, though Krennic hadn’t exactly been subtle in broadcasting the news of reuniting their famed scientist with his long-lost daughter.

“I’ll take care to remind you, Director Krennic,” he continued, his voice sounding too much like Wilhuff Tarkin’s for Krennic’s liking, “it was my informant and my information that lead to Gerrera’s arrest. I trust Command has been adequately notified.”

Krennic quirked an eyebrow. “Of course.”

Ensuring Senjax’s silence shouldn’t be too difficult, Krennic decided, no matter his rank.

Galen, who took the seat to Krennic’s left, remained neutral throughout the conversation. His jaw was tense and his eyes flicked over the setup, from his daughter to the door where Gerrera would soon arrive.

He – and Jyn – were silent and obedient, the most important puzzle piece of today going well.

Minutes ticked away quietly before a senatorial aide called the room to attention, requesting the guests take their seats so they could begin. After the guests took their seats, the exterior doors of the base were flung open and guests turned in their seats for their first look of the infamous terrorist.

Krennic turned in the same manner, but he concentrated on the Erso girl in his peripheral vision. If she jumped, if she made any move closer to the prisoner…

Well, two Death Troopers stood behind the Ersos for exactly that purpose.

(Memories of Galen, crestfallen and pale after his wife’s funeral, floated across Krennic’s mind. Returning Galen to that state – especially now, with the project running behind schedule – would be less than ideal, but Krennic was prepared to ensure the safety of the project and the Empire. No bratty, teenaged hellion would stand in his way.)

Saw Gerrera emerged in the doorway, his wrists shackled, flanked by two gleaming Stormtroopers. His head was still held high as his eyes scanned the auditorium and the people within it, pride radiating from his every movement. (Several audience members shrank back from the fearsome imagine. They had expected a man beaten down and defeated, not the fighter before them.) The rebel’s eyes rested upon Jyn after a moment and his lips turned up in a snarl.

_Good_ , Krennic smirked internally. _What do you think of the uniform she’s wearing, Gerrera? You don’t enjoy the reminder of which brood she truly belongs with, do you?_

Jyn, too, noticed Gerrera’s displeasure. Her eyes, so intent on the door when Gerrera first emerged, dropped to the ground under his gaze. She fidgeted and shrank into herself, but stayed firmly by her father’s side, like the obedient Imperial daughter she was.

(Mentally, Krennic applauded himself. Even the hardest exteriors cracked and the worst winters thawed. Once the correct pressured was applied, of course, and Orson Krennic made a point to memorize every person’s breaking point.)

Winmey Lenz, an Imperial senator from Chandrilan Krennic had the pleasure of collaborating with before on many occasions (the senator never had any problems convincing the Senate to extend the weapons budget when Krennic desired more wiggle room for experimentation, granted some of his … less pleasant activities were hidden from the limelight), followed Gerrera to center stage, taking his place behind the podium and greeting the audience, both the limited number present and those watching the live broadcast of the event.

“Citizens of the Empire, we have before us a man who has frequented our headline news, who has killed mercilessly and threatened the very safety of the Empire as a whole. Saw Gerrera” – the rebel in question raised his chin and leveled a harsh stare at the crowd – “has troubled us long enough. Today, we reach the end of his reign of terror, both here and throughout the galaxy. A wonderful step forward in creating peace throughout the Empire!”

Polite claps answered him and Krennic pictured the greater, less restrained audiences throughout the galaxy cheering at the senator’s words. Perhaps, more privately, Krennic’s superiors traded smug smiles as well.

“Saw Gerrera,” Lenz turned to address him directly now. “Please step forward.”

Gerrera did, without hesitation, staring down the audience through the red glow of the electroguillotine.  

“You are being charged with crimes of murder, sedition and conspiracy against the Empire. How do you plead?”

“Guilty.” Neither his voice nor his expression wavered, though the crowd began to murmur in surprise. Where was his pleas to continue living? Did the man truly feel no remorse for his actions? (Of course not. Men like Gerrera and remorse didn’t live well together.)

The senator shook his head. “Then I therefore sentence you to death by – “

_BOOM._

Explosions racked the base, throwing Krennic, Senjax and the Ersos from their seats, smacking the ground hard. The world spun around Krennic, the edges blurring together, each sound muffled and far away.

What was happening? What was that noise – and what was blocking the sun’s glare?

Shouts and screams filtered to him as, with a grunt of pain and frustration, Krennic lifted his head off the ground. Chaos overtook the scene. Smoke billowed through the base’s roof and the bodies – some civilian and some Stormtroopers and Imperial officers (the bombs didn’t distinguish between them, they never did) – littered the ground, unmoving. Senjax, who had awkwardly landed atop one of the holocams, barely moved and blood trickled from a piece of a shrapnel lodged in the back of his head. Galen had already sat up, despite the blood trickling from his ear, and was attending to his daughter, smoothing his hands over her hair now littered with dust as her cap lay two feet ahead of her. The girl bore marks of injury – meager cuts on her face, her eyes unfocused – but was already resisting her father’s touch. Krennic turned his attention elsewhere.

A flash of movement on the stage caught Krennic’s attention and he realized what had blocked out the sun. Partially concealed in a cloud of smoke, a U-Wing (not an Imperial ship – _rebels_ ) hovered above the platform. Ion bolts shot across the audience, combating Imperial fire, as a rope dropped from the ship and several figured rappelled onto the stadium. One ‘trooper on stage joined the fire, but, strangely, fired on the audience rather than the transport over its head.

_A plant_ , Krennic realized a moment late, _or a defector._

Three sentients – one was clearly human, two bipedal, but through the haze Krennic couldn’t identify their species – with blasters in their hands rushed past the unconcerned ‘trooper. One worked to free Gerrera of his stuncuffs. A second joined the ‘trooper, aiming their blaster at anyone still standing, and the third wound back his arm to throw –

“Grenade!” Krennic shouted, only a moment before another explosion rattled the ground. This one, thankfully, flew towards the entrance to the base where more security flowed in and away from himself.

The rebels – filthy murdering _beasts_ – took the moment of confusion to flee, pushing an auxiliary side arm into Gerrera’s hands as they bolted for the rope dangling from their transport.

Krennic’s mind – foggy, struggling to follow thoughts, how hard had that explosion hit him? – couldn’t make sense of the situation. The number of security breaches that occurred for this to be successful (how had air traffic control not caught the descending ship? How had a rebel gained Stormtrooper armor?) pointed to one solution:

Had the rebel informer double crossed him?

Perhaps seeking a pretty profit for himself, the scum turned Gerrera into the Imperial forces on Tamsye Prime despite having a backup plan to rescue the rebel leader. But that wouldn’t explain revealing Jyn Erso’s hidden identity…

Jyn Erso, the girl following the rebel’s flight. The girl breaking free of her father’s grasp.

“Saw!” In the pandemonium, the girl jumped away from her father, stomping on her Imperial cap as she jumped to the platform. Galen reached to stop her, but she moved too quickly, yanking her arm out of his grip with a snarl. Krennic stared in horror, certain both his prizes were slipping from his grasp in a matter of seconds, but, to his surprise, Gerrera didn’t turn or even pause at the sound of his ward’s voice. His shouted orders to the rebel pilot. “Saw!” She cried again and one rebel – the human with dark skin, Krennic saw her more clearly now – reached a hand towards the girl, beckoning her forward. “Wait!”

Gerrera had no patience for the woman. He grabbed her outstretched arm, shoving the rope into her hands, yelling words lost to the fray. The order was clear: they leave _now_. The woman threw a confused glance towards him, but the rope retracted into the hull of the ship, swallowing rebels with it. The door slammed shut and, with a roar of engines, the U-Wing blasted into the atmosphere. The band of rebels was gone, but Jyn Erso ran anyway, her hand outstretched towards the ship.

“Grab her!” Krennic yelled, staggering to his feet, fighting to remain upright. Let the others – whoever had horrifically botched security – deploy the TIE fighters to chase the rebels. He zeroed in on Jyn Erso, still following Gerrera. “Get the girl!”

Two Death Troopers grabbed her by the arms, yanking her backward though her legs kicked and her elbows jerked in protest. A third trooper butted his gun against her temple to quiet her resistance. Distantly, Galen shouted her name, fear coloring his words.

“Bring her to me,” Krennic ordered. The ‘troopers lifted her over Senjax, whose twitching had stopped, and dropped her on her knees before Krennic. Her eyes glazed over, but she was thankfully still awake. Blood trickled from above her eyebrow, coloring a line down her nose and staining her lips. Without mercy for her injuries, Krennic grabbed her face in his right hand.

“Did you know?” He demanded, jerking her head. “Did you know the rebels were planning this attack?”

Jyn grinned, slow and wide. When he’d first found her, Krennic had thought her appearance feral, with her matted hair barely contained in a braid and the grimy clothes she wore, but that was practically an Alderaanian princess compared to now. Her teeth were outlined in blood and her eyes were glazed from injury and pain. Despite it all, the girl _laughed_.

“Doesn’t matter if I knew,” she said, smug. “The rebellion just made a mockery of you in front of all your cameras and now the whole galaxy knows.”

_Smack._ The back of Krennic’s hand slapped her backwards, and she choked on more blood. With an almost gleeful expression, she stared him down and spat, bright red blood marring his white uniform.

Very well then, the slap hadn’t been enough. Krennic reached for his side arm, edging the safety off and aiming it in the middle of her forehead. Well trained and accustomed to impromptu executions, his guards held her shoulders steady, allowing the director a clean and effortless shot.

“Orson, please.” Galen shoved through the panicked crowd gathering around him and the girl to settle his hand over the barrel of Krennic’s blaster. “She’s only a child.”

“She’s a threat to the Empire, much like your wife,” Krennic reminded him. “Rebellion seems to run through her blood.”

“She’s been misled.” Galen skipped pleading entirely; his tone was nothing short of begging. “She doesn’t know, Orson. She couldn’t know. Let me teach her.”

“The Empire can’t survive giving endless second chances.”

Galen twisted between the barrel of the gun and his daughter, shielding her. “I won’t do it, Krennic.” The words echoed in his ears, sounding of waves and smelling of fresh soil. “I’ll leave if she dies. I will not complete the project.”

His eyes bore into Krennic’s, serious. Around them, people still shouted in panic and pain and ‘troopers comms buzzed with frantic orders, but Krennic’s world silenced as the men stared each other down, a silent power struggle. Which was more important: Galen Erso or Krennic’s pride?

Either Krennic lowered his gun and kept both the Ersos, or Krennic fired and killed both with a single shot. The fate of his project – the fate of the universe, if he may be so bold about the Death Star – hung in the air alongside his blaster.

“Throw her in a cell,” Krennic told a guard, dropping his hand. “Destroy the key. I want her out of my sight.”

“Orson…” Galen reached for him, relief heavy in his voice, but Krennic ignored him. He straightened his uniform, hoping to regain some of respect.

“Back to Eadu, Dr. Erso. Best to stay where you’re most useful to the Empire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would be surprised how littler information there is about Imperial executions. (Apparently they were traditionally so graphic that ["only those who have a strong stomach are recommended to read it"](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Imperial_Execution_Logs).) However, the most descriptive information I could find was, ironically, about one time when [Saw Gerrera was almost executed during the Clone Wars](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Execution_of_Ramsis_Dendup_and_Saw_Gerrera) via an [electroguillotine](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Electroguillotine) and the chance for history to repeat itself was a little too good to pass up. 
> 
> The [Imperial base on Tieos](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Unidentified_Imperial_base_\(Tieos\)) existed and, though there's little information on it, I decided the Empire probably utilized the planet for its agricultural resources. It's out of the way, which made it a logical place for the Imperials to stage an execution they didn't want interrupted. 
> 
> [Senator Winmey Lenz](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Winmey_Lenz) is a nod to my current Star Wars novel, _[Leia, Princess of Alderaan](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Leia,_Princess_of_Alderaan)_. I liked him for this role because, originally, the senator worked with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma in the early dealings of what would become the Rebel Alliance. However, Leia caught him playing both sides, so to speak, so he was edged out of any further Alliance meetings. I like to think overseeing the execution of one of the leading rebels was a test by the Empire to ensure his loyalty. 
> 
> One of the women Krennic noticed is probably my favorite character from _Rebel Rising_ , [Idryssa Barruck](http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Idryssa_Barruck). She worked with Saaw for many years (and was pretty close to Jyn) before she left to join the budding Rebel Alliance. She'll appear again in this story, both because I really like her and because I have some serious headcanons involving her as to how the Alliance connected Liana Hallik and Jyn Erso. 
> 
> Also, I have too much fun writing from Krennic's POV. Someone stop me.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me about Star Wars on tumblr... I'm [RxbxlCaptain](https://rxbxlcaptain.tumblr.com/)!


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